If only they had not called him "English." In vain he fired a volley of Scotch; they pretended not to understand it.

Then he screamed that he and Shovel could fight the lot of them.

Who was Shovel?
they asked derisively.

He replied that Shovel was a bloke who could lick any two of them--and with one hand tied behind his back.
No sooner had he made this proud boast than he went white, and soon two disgraceful tears rolled down his cheeks.

The boys saw that for some reason unknown his courage was gone, and even Francie Crabb began to turn up his sleeves and spit upon his hands.
Elspeth was as bewildered as the others, but she slipped her hand into his and away they ran ingloriously, the foe too much astounded to jeer.
She sought to comfort him by saying (and it brought her a step nearer womanhood), "You wasn't feared for yourself, you wasn't; you was just feared they would hurt me." But Tommy sobbed in reply, "That ain't it.